Disclaimer: Unfortunately for now, I am merely a struggling author living my dreams through another's characters. I own nothing, will get nothing… Besides, really. If I could ever possibly own Ranger, do you actually think I would share him?
This chapter was inspired by "Decode" and "Conspiracy" by Paramore. There's also a small lyric from T.I and J.T... it fit...
AN- PLEASE READ: I'm going to get this out now so I won't have to repeat myself. CUPCAKES WILL NOT LIKE THIS STORY. I personally have nothing against a Cupcake pairing (though I prefer Batman!), but the way this story turned out, Morelli is not going to be liked. Therefore, I am saying this now, if you are a cupcake, hit backspace or the back button on your browser. DO NOT leave me some review about how I am being unfair to readers. This is a babe fic and it's going to get ugly. Essentially, read at your own risk.
Now we shall proceed.
Gone
I've been traveling this road too long.
I'm just trying to find my way back home.
The old me's dead and gone.
Dead and gone...
Harsh breathing in her ear, blowing from her lungs.
In, out. In, out.
Heavy footfalls. Running- away? Towards?
Left, right. Left, right.
She couldn't remember why, she didn't know where, but she knew that she had to keep running.
Keep going. Keep going.
The dark night enclosed around her with not a star in sight, causing her mind to be blind to all but the scary sounds and the horrific sights that only were shown through one's fears. The cold rains and harsh winds bit at her scantily covered skin, the long, natty black t-shirt that hung to her knees clinging to her pale, luminescent, slightly blue tinted skin. Her usually vibrant blue eyes were now glassy with fear and blinked rapidly, trying to see the impossible in the dark abyss that surrounded her. She felt the hysteria welling up inside her as she stopped to catch her breath, the air, cold as ice, filling her body just as quickly as it exploded out. But now wasn't the time to stop, now wasn't the time to fear. Now was the time to escape, to run, to find the light, to find… him.
Him? Who was he?
She could see him. Up ahead, the end of her destination, the finish of her goal. He was right in front of her, a trophy surrounded by Heaven's golden light. His tall form was but a silhouette to her cloudy, blurry eyes. But she had to hurry, she had to press.
Keep going. Keep going.
She couldn't move. Her body was paralyzed, whether it was in fear of fear itself or frozen from the cold, she didn't know, but she did know that time was running out. He was moving away, the light dimming, and rapidly becoming dimmer.
Left, right. Left, right.
She cried out in a hoarse voice when he disappeared. Despair filled her being and she knew that it was too late. He was gone, the only person who could help her, who ever saved her, was too far out of her reach. Tears streamed down her beautiful face and sobs wracked her small body as she slumped down to the ground, pulling herself into the fetal position. She let his name escape her lips as she felt the cold consume her.
"Ranger…"
The incessant beeping was getting very aggravating. That was the first thought that popped into her head. That was the only thought that popped into her head. Not what happened, not where was she, but the blasted beeping? She tried to locate the noise, but she, for some reason, couldn't seem to move. Moaning in protest, she opened her eyes and immediately squinted to lessen the harshness of the bright lights.
"I think she's coming out of it."
"Thank God."
"You might want to move back so that I could do my job. She may just be drifting again."
She tried to focus on the voices, tried to bring them to clarity, but really, that just brought on a mind-numbing headache. She felt the cloud of gray coming back to creep into the edges of her consciousness, threatening to pull her back under, but she fought against it. Forcing her eyes to open fully, she was met by a weathered, handsome face. A wide nose held up silver rimmed circular glasses that hid shrewd but kind green eyes. Jet black hair that seemed to be graying at the temples fell over a wide forehead. Fear began to cloud her mind. The face wasn't familiar, but it couldn't be one of them… could it? She would have remembered this face, the face that looked like someone's favored grandfather, right? Her confidence wavered when he took her hand, the fear in her causing her body to tremble and the annoying beeping to beep faster.
"Welcome back, my dear," the charming and distinguished voice said with a hint of an English accent. "Don't worry, your quite safe now."
His grip on her arm softened as he circled her wrist and she realized that he was merely taking her pulse. She forced herself to relax. If he wanted to hurt her, he would have done so already, right? But she didn't take her eyes off of his, and he held her gaze, trying not to frighten her. When she finally did let her eyes drop, she let them roam the room. The pristine white walls, the numerous machines… she was in a hospital. The room was almost overwhelming with the distinct scents of antiseptic and fresh flowers. Then her eyes caught intense chocolate brown ones.
Her head tilted to the side. Did she know him? He looked too rugged and dangerous to be a nurse. Was he the one who found her? Who brought her here?
He looked tired.
There goes those random thoughts again, she thought to herself as she took him in fully. His black hair curled around his ears and was long enough to curl against the collar of his leather jacket. It was in a state of disarray as if he ran his fingers through it constantly. His full lips were pulled into a tight, grim line and there were worry lines at the corners of those beautiful chocolate eyes. His lean, muscled body was clad in a pair of light blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and was covered with a black leather jacket. His body looked tense as if he were a predator ready to pounce. And she suddenly felt that she was the prey.
She began to shrink back into the bed as his gaze bore into hers and whimpered when he took a step forward. The sound made him stop so abruptly, it seemed he slammed into a transparent wall. His eyes swung to the doctor, wide in confusion, and even deeper, in fear.
"Doc… What-"
"Detective," the doctor softly but swiftly interrupted, his gaze never leaving his patient's as he continued to give her a check up, "I think you should try and go get something to eat. The cafeteria should still be open."
"What are you going to do? Force me to leave again? I'm not leaving her. Why is she afraid of me? She- she can't possibly think that I-"
He had a voice that was as smooth and rich as liquid sugar, and at the moment she could all but hear the fear, confusion, and sadness in his voice.
"I don't know, Detective. With you hovering, I haven't been able to fully do my job. Now keep back and keep quiet. You are causing her vitals to go unstable." His eyebrows raised as the detective ignored him and took another step forward and another until he was at her bed side and she was pressed into the cold metal bars on the other side of the bed. He slowly lifted his hand to reach for her. She forced herself not to cringe in fear when his rough fingers trailed gently over her cheek. She had too much welled up compassion to put the man in anymore pain.
"Hey there. It's okay. I'm here and you're safe now, Cupcake."
She didn't know what she expected. She thought that if he said something, something distinguishing, or that if she heard his voice she would remember him. But all that was there was a void as if he was a complete stranger, which his actions were screaming at her that he clearly was not.
She looked pained as she bowed her head, and whispered, "I'm so sorry. Do I know you?"
His entire body jerked as if lightening had suddenly traveled down his spine. "Do you-"
"It's okay, dear. You're very weak." Subtly, the doctor cut him off taking her attention away from the obviously distraught man. He placed a gentle hand on the man's arm. Whether it was in restraint or comfort, no one knew. "Confusion does occur after a traumatic experience. I think it's time you just rest-"
"You don't remember me?"
She looked away from the kind doctor to the face of the bedraggled and disconcerted man. She looked down again as she felt tears form in her eyes for him. "Am… am I supposed to?"
"YES!" When he saw her cringe back, he took in a deep breath and repeated more softly, "Yes… Cupcake, I mean, St-"
"Dear," the doctor interrupted again with a stern look to the disheartened man, "do you remember anything?"
She wracked her brain, but all she could see was darkness with leering shadows. "No…"
"What is your name?"
"I'm-" Her eyes flew to his abruptly. "I'm… I-I… I don't know…" Her eyes looked around the room blindly, trying to find something that would help her remember. She gripped the metal bars, her knuckles turning white as she tried to hold herself steady as the panic threatened to drown her. The beeping from one of the machines grew more erratic, and her breathing became shallow in the throes of her hysteria. "I-I don't know who I am! Who am I? Where am I? WHERE AM I?"
"Sweetheart, my dear, I need you to calm down. Detective," the doctor sent a sharp reprimand to the heartbroken man as he tried to restrain the still thrashing woman, "this is exactly what I was trying to avoid. Now get over here and help me keep her calm."
Detective Joseph Morelli snapped out of his trance when he saw the panicked look and thrashing body in the hospital bed. Galvanized into action, he was at her bedside in one second, stroking the hair from her face the next. "Cupcake, baby, calm down. I'm here. You're safe. You're in the hospital. Just… please. Calm down…"
"Love, I need you to take deep breaths. There it is; inhale through your nose… exhale through your mouth… that's right, calmly and gently…"
"Cupcake-"
"Detective. I think you should make use of the cafeteria?" The doctor looked pointedly at Morelli, telling him with his eyes that the request was not a question, but a demand. Nodding, the dejected detective looked once more at the slowly calming woman in the bed, before walking to the door and closing it behind him.
Her eyes followed the man walking out of the door as she followed the doctor's instructions, breathing in slowly and then expelling the breath from her lungs. But, before long, her breath caught on a sob. Grabbing the doctor's hand tightly in hers, she whispered, "Why? Why can't I remember anything?"
Keeping her hand in his, the doctor sat at her bedside, calmly stroking his fingers over the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. "My dear, confusion, and yes, amnesia is very common after such a traumatic experience. Keep breathing, love."
Doing as she told, she kept breathing until the beeping beside her found a steady pace. So that's what that was… "Will-" Swallowing to wet her suddenly parched throat, she started again, "Will I ever remember?"
The doctor sighed. "The mind is such a complex… creature. It does what it deems necessary to protect the body it resides in. It could take days, weeks, even months, to get your memories back. Or you could get them back in the next second."
She sat for a moment, waiting for something to happen, but all she could see was that blasted void. Sighing, she rolled her eyes, "Nope. Not a damn thing."
Chuckling, the doctor began to move around the room, checking the machines for any changes. "The fact that you have your sense of humor back tells me that you'll be just fine."
"I had a sense of humor? Was it dry, sarcastic, obvious-"
The doctor looked at her warily. "Now, my dear, while I will answer some of your questions, I will not answer something as trivial as whether you have a sense of humor or not. Wouldn't you rather know who you are?"
She quickly looked up. "You know?"
He laughed, as he bent over her so that he could raise her to a sitting position. Before he pulled back, he replied, "As I was the one to give birth to you in this very hospital, and to take care of every scratch and scrape you've had since then, I'll say that I know you very well."
She sighed again. "Was- am- I that clumsy?"
He laughed again. "No, not clumsy, just very… curious. Yes, that is the word I would use to describe Stephanie Michelle Plum. Curious."
She sat up abruptly, her eyes wide. "Is that my name? Stephanie?"
The doctor smiled. "You were always quick to catch on. Yes, your name is Stephanie."
Sitting back, her face scrunched in contemplation she repeated, "Stephanie. Stephanie Michelle Plum." She looked in the mirror over the sink across the room. A rat's nest of curly brown hair sat on top of her head making her pale skin look milky white and her bright eyes shine aquamarine. Tilting her head to the side, she said, "I guess I look like a Stephanie…"
When the doctor merely laughed, she looked to him and said, "This is probably weird to ask right now, but… what's your name? In my head, I keep referring to you as "The Doctor", and as sinister and menacing as that sounds, you just don't look it. Plus, I'm pretty sure you have a name."
The doctor smiled. "That's quite alright, my dear, and not weird at all. After all, you would like to know the person who has seen you half naked, correct?" At the horror struck look on Stephanie's face, he laughed again. "I was merely joking, love. I am Dr. Addison, Dr. Blake Addison."
Biting her lip, and getting agitated when no memory of a Dr. Addison surfaced to her mind, she shook her head, put on a bright smile and stuck out her hand. "I am Stephanie Michelle Plum. It's nice to meet you… again, I think…"
Chuckling, Dr. Addison grasped her hand in both of his before placing it back down on her lap. "I do believe that you should get some rest now. They say that rest is the best cure. And who knows? You might recall more things after a good night's sleep," the doctor replied as he made his way to the door.
Following his advice, Stephanie started to snuggle under the pure white linens that confined her to the bed when she suddenly thought of something.
"Doc?"
He turned around, his hand on the doorknob and his eyebrow raised in question.
Looking down sheepishly, she twisted her hands as she whispered, "C-can you tell everyone that I am already asleep? I… I'm not ready…" She trailed off thinking about the man that was so torn by her lack of remembrance earlier.
His features softened in understanding. He nodded with an, "Of course," and turning off the light, closed the door behind him.
"What the hell do you mean she's already sleeping? Don't you think that her family would like to see her? Talk to her?"
"My duty is only to that of my patient. Not an estranged fiancé who she doesn't even remember."
"So it's true?"
"Addison-"
"Joseph." The doctor sighed before he continued. How he hated dealing with impatient Italian families. Always ready to blow up. "Right now, what's best for her is to rest. She's already had one of the many panic attacks that she is bound to endure tonight thanks to-"
"Panic attack? What panic attack?"
Dr. Addison's eyes softened as he turned to a hand wringing Ellen Plum. He wasn't lying when he said that he remembered delivering Stephanie those thirty odd years ago. He'd had a feeling even then that she would be different. Giving her usually controlled mother a compassionate smile, he answered, "Yes, Ellen. She had a minor panic attack that was easily subdued." He looked pointedly at Morelli, who ducked his head guiltily. "Right now, as I said before, all she needs is rest. The amnesia, as I am sure would be demonstrated by some tests, is most likely temporary, but-" he added, anticipating the anxious family's question, "the length of the amnesia cannot be determined. That depends on Stephanie. But don't worry," he said as he began to take his leave, "I'm betting on her."
When the doctor left, the waiting room grew silent again. Then a sigh was heard. Eight pairs of eyes cut to the corner of the room where Ellen Plum sat, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
"She's going to be okay, Mrs.-"
She shook her head warding off the sympathetic gesture. She knew, deep down, that her daughter was going to be alright. After all, she thought with a humorless laugh to herself, she'd been in worse predicaments than this and had always managed. The one thing she couldn't handle was her lack of control. What do you do with a daughter who couldn't even remember her own name? God, how she wanted her iron. Or a quick shot of Jack Daniels.
"Ellen-" Her husband started when she abruptly stood.
"I'm going to get coffee from the cafeteria. Does anyone want coffee? Or anything? Anything at all?"
Eyes widened, jaws slackened. Ellen Plum was… flustered? Anxious? When no one answered, she turned out of the small waiting room toward the cafeteria, her short heels clicking on the tile floor, echoing the farther away she got.
Silence filled the small waiting room as the tension built with tension. Tension of the unknown, tension of being forced into patience. With nothing to do but wait.
The silence was broken as a fist punched through the wall.
AN: So… though this isn't my first fanfic, I am actually going to stick with this one. Stick with me, it'll get better. Please review! I like the good, the bad, and the ugly. I am here to write what you like. Oh! And I would like to thank my best friend and temporary beta, Alice Spice! I am looking for a new beta (she hates fanfics...)...